Hiraeth

Today’s pony seems to be gazing wistfully across the valley towards his Carneddau home. He may never have roamed the wild moors up in the mountains, but his little semi-feral herd originated there, and he seems to have an inexplicable longing to return. 

This is ‘Hiraeth’, untranslatable, but conveying a mixture of longing, yearning, nostalgia and wistfulness - ‘a pull on the heart that conveys a distinct feeling of missing something irretrievably lost’. (The link below gives more information) 

https://www.bbc.com/travel/article/20210214-the-welsh-word-you-cant-translate

Of course, if this was colour rather than black and white, I might have called this ‘Blue Remembered Hills’ as Housman’s poem describes a similar feeling of loss. In reality, of course, I’m sure this little chap is perfectly content. 

I spot the herd on my dash around the reserve  at Conwy today - a dash because G has dropped me off while he drives to Llandudno to pick up some sand (B&Q not the beach). I have some 40 minutes. It’s hardly relaxing, but I steal some time to sit down in their field and watch them for a while - as always a wonderful experience. 

And then, as I’m hurrying back along the estuary, I’m thrilled to spot a female wheatear - such beautiful little birds. I manage a few shots as she flits teasingly along the rocky bank. 

The colour version is in extras, along with the little wheatear.